Incognito
by Jini
Summary: When it comes to undercover work, there was only one hard rule you had to follow and that was to never mix your personal life with the job. But then again, rules were made to be broken. Tim/Kon.
1. Part 1

Disclaimer: I don't own anything DCU-related.

Summary: When it comes to undercover work, there was only one hard rule you had to follow and that was to never mix your personal life with the job. But then again, rules were made to be broken.

Author's Notes: I got a prompt that asked for a steamy** Tim/Kon make-out session in a janitor's closet** and I've always wanted to write a **crossdressing!Tim** fic, but didn't have an idea on how to go about it. That is, until I got this prompt. So like hitting two birds with one stone, I merged these two ideas together and it became another explosion of a story.

Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Incognito <strong>

**Part 1  
><strong>

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><p>"Tell me again. What exactly we are doing here at a brothel?" said Kon as he followed Tim behind another building. "Not that I'm complaining helping you out, Rob, but—"<p>

Tim turned around, looking slightly annoyed when he'd already just explained this to Kon ten minutes ago.

"We're _here_, Kon, because the suspect I've been tracking all week is in there," he said, pointing at said brothel, where the sign _The Devil's Den_ hung in flashing neon lights above the doorway. "It's just recon this time. I just need to gain intel for Batman and then we can high tail on out of here. I need you with me in case something… goes wrong, that's all."

"Dressed up like _that_?" said Kon, gesturing at Tim's entirety.

The Robin costume Kon was used to seeing was now gone, and in its place was a tight, strapless dress that stopped halfway to Tim's inner thigh, showing way too much leg—rather smooth, shapely legs, he thought for a moment—than Kon was comfortable with, and hugged every curve and shape of Tim's slim figure (from his firm hips to round ass), which did absolutely nothing to detain his imagination from wandering further.

"Yes, what of it?" said Tim, looking at himself with a shrug.

When Kon realized he'd been staring—_again_, he made it a point to look away. "Nothing," he mumbled, not sure why he was suddenly embarrassed. "Just not used to it, that's all. I mean, did you _have_ to get a dress that practically shows your underwear? And what's with the wig, man?" He jutted his chin at Tim's flowing mane of wavy brown hair, which passed midway down his back. "You look like a goddamn mannequin, man, it's _freaky_."

Freaky… and _helluva attractive_, said the traitorous part of his brain, which Kon promptly proceeded to beat down with the other part of his brain that said he was digging himself a grave.

Tim rolled his eyes. "You're beginning to sound like my dad, Kon," he said as he took out a pair of binoculars from who knows _where_. Kon didn't want to find out. "Besides, I'm undercover. I gotta blend in."

Kon sighed. "Dude, you do realize your obsession for authenticity is scary sometimes, right?" he said.

Tim rolled his eyes again. "Just stay here," he said and handed Kon a communicator. "You'll be able to listen in and speak to me through that," Tim explained while Kon placed the device into his ear, clicking the button to activate it. "And this," he gave Kon a tiny computer which Kon could see was a video feed of exactly what Tim was seeing, "is so you can follow my movements. It should have a thermal option if the video gets cut off—not that you need it, of course."

Tim stood up and hoisted his purse (Tim wearing a _purse_ was probably just as bizarre as seeing him in a dress and wig) onto his shoulder.

"Other than that, stay hidden," he ordered, adjusting the ends of his dress in a way that was entirely too distracting that Kon almost didn't hear the rest of his instructions, "I'll contact you if I need you. Got that, Kon?"

He was so _not_ watching Tim hide a knife in the inner holster of his thigh and finding it incredibly hot. He was _not_.

"Gotcha," he grunted.

Tim turned to look at him and Kon did the same.

Despite his earlier misgivings, he couldn't help but trace over Tim's face, from the perfectly applied make-up (which Kon was willing to bet Tim had spent hours researching and practicing on the exact ways it was done), the red lip-stick that made Tim's pale skin stand out even more and then his eyes—a brilliant shade of blue that was the only thing of Tim's that completely belonged to him.

It was creepy… how easy Tim could pull off looking like a girl and he only needed a pretty dress and fake hair to do it. If Tim had been born a girl and didn't so happen to be his best friend, Kon knew he'd have gone after her in a heartbeat. Maybe even dated her.

And nothing was scarier than how sure he was about _that_.

"One last thing before I go," said Tim quietly, pressing a communicator similar to the one Kon received into his ear, where it was instantly hidden by the fallen strands of long hair, "Do not—and I repeat—do _not_, under any circumstances, come in after me."

"Tim—" Kon started but Tim cut him off.

"No matter what you hear or see, Kon, you have to swear you'll not try to intervene. I'll be fine. If I need your help, I'll ask for it. But I need you to stay where you are. Promise me, you'll do that."

Tim looked serious.

"We have to catch this guy and if our cover is blown…" he trailed off and Kon got the hint. He didn't like it, but if Tim told him to stay put, he'd stay put.

"Alright, I promise," he relented. Before Tim could leave, Kon grabbed him by his wrist and pulled him back, causing Tim to fall against him. "But _you_ have to promise _me_ something," he said as Tim stayed where he was, his hands against Kon's chest, feeling it pound beneath his palm as he listened. "Don't do anything stupid, Tim. Otherwise, I'm coming in after to you, cover or no cover. Got it?"

It was as much a promise as it was a warning.

Tim slowly pulled away, looking a little unsteady and strange; there was something cloudy and unfocused about his eyes, as if he was someplace faraway. And it could have just been the lighting or the make-up, but Kon could have sworn Tim's face was redder than normal.

"I'll be careful," Tim murmured, meeting Kon's eyes one more time with a little smile that spoke of a lot of things and yet revealed absolutely nothing. "I promise."

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><p>AN: Part 2 will be posted soon. Thanks for reading~

Feedback would be awesome :)


	2. Part 2

Disclaimer: I don't own anything DCU-related.

Summary: When it comes to undercover work, there was only one hard rule you had to follow and that was to never mix your personal life with the job. But then again, rules were made to be broken.

Author's Notes: I apologize for the long wait. I was having writer's block for the last chapter and didn't know if I should keep posting until I got closer to the end of this story. Anyway, here's the next part. Enjoy~

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><p><strong>Incognito<strong>

**Part 2**

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><p>They were after a man by the name of Isaac Phelps.<p>

Kon pulled his file on the computer. On the outside, the man appeared like your typical, mundane Gotham citizen; mid-forties, a greying beard and a belly in desperate need of a good diet. He owned a sizable amount of conglomerate business throughout the district, all of which had brutally suffered from the sudden dip in the stock markets. It was only recently when profits started rising again, and at an alarming rate. But as suspicious as that appeared, the police and FBI couldn't find any evidence to suggest Isaac Phelps was doing something illegal.

On the other hand, according to the intel Batman and Tim have collected (and the ones they received from Oracle), Phelps did more than just sell car parts and other mechanical goods; he was also a large holder in the black market, selling anything from drugs, weapons, even women to anybody willing to meet his price.

The man looked about as harmless as some kid's grandfather, but he knew better than to judge (or trust) a book by it's cover. Underneath that humble face was someone dangerous.

"Kon?" said Tim's voice in his ear.

Kon pulled up the video feed again. Tim was somewhere dark, like a tunnel. It was hard to make out from the little lighting he could see, but he was pretty sure from the constant shuffling and the grunting, Tim was crawling through something.

"You read me, Kon?"

"I'm here, Tim," he said. "Can't really tell where you are though."

"In the vents on the upper-east wing," said Tim.

Kon didn't bother to ask how he got there. Tim and vents were a bat-thing, and Kon knew from experience just to go along with it.

"Couldn't you have just used the front door?" he said dryly.

"I'm not supposed to be seen, Kon," said Tim, and Kon could imagine he was rolling his eyes.

"Then what's the point of getting dolled up then?" he asked.

_What's the point of driving me half-insane?_ But he didn't say that.

"To blend in with the crowd, of course," Tim replied as if it was obvious. "It's better if no one knows I came in here… to avoid suspicion."

"Right," said Kon, snorting. "You Bats always have to make everything complicated."

"Oh _hush_," said Tim, but Kon could hear the amusement in his voice and it made him grin. "Make yourself useful and pull up the map, will you?"

"Yes, mom," Kon drolled and typed it in.

The map appeared instantly onto the screen, showing a complete blueprint of the entire brothel. The first two floors was obviously where all the customers and the employees worked, but above that was another floor that was completely different. Kon typed in another set of key words and another layout of the map appeared over the first, this one belonging to the buildings ventilation system. Along one of them was a blinking red dot that was obviously Tim's current location.

"Alright. Got you," he said.

"Good. Now pinpoint me to the main office. They should be keeping all the files there," said Tim.

"If you make a left and then keep going down that should bring you to the hallway that will lead you to the main office," said Kon, but clicked another set of buttons which pulled out another layout of the map over the first two, only this time showing several blinking yellow lights. "Be careful though. Phelps has his some of his men posted on that floor. Here. I'll send the feed to you."

"Gotcha. Thanks, Kon," said Tim.

Kon watched as the red dot on the map started moving again. Then his eyes pulled out the video feed. It was still too dim to tell what was going on, but he took Tim's little puffs of air and movement as a sign that he was alright.

Then there was a loud thump, followed by a grumbled, "Ow!" and "Fuck!" over the intercom.

He spoke too soon, he supposed.

"You okay? What happened?" said Kon at once. He squinted at the computer, trying to find his way through the dark for any glimpse of Tim.

"I'm fine," said Tim, sounding disgruntled. "Just… just tripped over these stupid heels, that's all. I don't get how girls can walk in these—and don't you _dare _laugh at me, Kon."

Kon bit his lip. "I wasn't going to laugh," he said in a moderately even voice.

"Sure you weren't," said Tim sarcastically.

"I was just going to say that maybe next time you go undercover you'll decide to wear more, ah… appropriate clothing," he suggested innocently.

"Whatever. As if _you_ weren't checking me out all that time," said Tim at the same time Kon choked on air.

"_What?_" he wheezed, feeling his face heat up. "I wasn't—I mean, why would I—I'd _never_—"

"Oh yes, you were," said Tim in that maddening Tim way that said he was always right about everything. "You thought I didn't notice you eying my legs? And my _ass_?"

Had he really been that obvious? Dear fucking God. What he wouldn't give for some Kryptonite right about now. He wanted to _die_ from sheer horror and embarrassment.

And Tim was smirking, Kon just knew it. That bastard.

"What's the matter, Kon?" he said, his voice lowering to almost a whisper, and it was such a fucking turn out it made certain body parts stand up immediately. "It's not like you to be so quiet…"

That… that was definitely a purr just now. Tim didn't _purr_. Did he? Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

It didn't help that he could hear everything Tim was doing as if he was standing right there in front of him. All the shuffling of clothing and the breathy gasps of air in the dark—Kon only had to shut his eyes and he could imagine Tim doing all of those things in an entirely different and less modest scenario. And dressed as a girl, with that damn dress and that long, wavy hair which he could just envision splayed across the pillows—

And well. The mass was fully upright now.

Great. Just great, Kon thought in frustration, staring (and glaring) at his hard-on.

"Okay, Kon, you can stop picturing me naked now," said Tim and it was like pouring a bucket of cold water over his head and them some (it made Kon choke on air again), "I think I'm getting close."

Tim was _evil_.

But Kon couldn't retaliate since they were nearing the exit. Kon could see the light filtering through the small opening of the vents.

"How am I looking?" said Tim as he slid legs first through the opening, and Kon had to wonder if Tim was doing this on purpose.

"Are you asking for my opinion or an actual fact?" said Kon through his teeth, because Tim's dangling legs were doing horrible, _horrible_ things to his dick right now. "Because both are looking great."

Tim hummed. "Sarcasm noted," he said and landed on his feet. "Alright coast is clear."

"The door to your right should be the main office," said Kon.

"It's locked," said Tim. "Typical." He pulled something out of his purse and Kon could see it was a pick-locking device. "This'll only take a sec."

Kon looked at the map again, his eyes trained on the yellow lights.

"Better hurry, someone's about the make their rounds," he said.

"I'm in," said Tim as the door clicked open. Just as quietly, he slid through the door an shut it behind him.

Inside were rows upon rows of computers. In the back was a smaller room with a desk, stacked with papers and another computer much similar to the others. On the other end was a filing cabinet, a mini-fridge and a red sofa.

Tim went to the back and turned on the computer. From his purse, he took out another device—a little module that was obviously given to him by the Batman. He plugged it into the computer and started typing; the screen blinked once and a password key appeared.

"Another lock," Tim muttered, typing furiously. "I can bypass the security. Then I'll link and copy the information into your computer, and you'll send our intel to Batman."

Kon nodded. "Right," he said.

"This encryption is tricky," said Tim, still typing. "Every time I hack and bypass one firewall, another appears."

Kon went back to the map and froze. The yellow lights were converging and drawing closer to the main room.

"Shit. Tim, you get on out of there," he said. "They're coming."

"Just a minute," said Tim. "I almost have this."

"Tim," Kon hissed as the lights came closer and closer.

"I said I have this," Tim snapped. "We can't allow Isaac Phelps to get away and this is our only chance. Now just… _give me a moment_."

Kon gritted his teeth, but waited. The lights were in the adjacent hallway now. At this rate, there was no way Tim was going to be able to slip back the way he came.

He stood up, ready to super-speed into the building to get to Tim when Tim's voice rang in his ear again.

"I got it! I'm in," said Tim, sounding triumphant. "Sending you the information right now."

"Information received," said Kon and looked at the map again. "Now, get your ass out of there."

But before Tim could move, the doors to the office flung open and a few rather large men walked in, one of them being Isaac Phelps.

"Crap," Tim muttered, ducking low.

"Sit tight," said Kon, standing on the ledge of the building opposite to the brothel. "I'll come get you."

"No!" Tim gasped. "You know why we can't! You'll compromise the mission."

"If I don't, you'll get killed," Kon snapped back.

"You _promised_," Tim said angrily. "You promised me you'd stay put!"

"And _you_ promised _me _you'd be careful," said Kon just as angry. "Your safety means more to me than this."

"More than the lives of hundreds of people?" Tim challenged, making Kon stop where he was. "If he gets away that's hundreds _more _he'll be able to hurt. With this… we can put him away—"

"But Tim," said Kon, clenching his fist. "You're—"

"I'll be fine," said Tim firmly and suddenly Kon could see Tim's face.

There were strands of dark curls that had fallen against his cheek, making his blue eyes even more prominent than ever. Tim looked like a girl Kon would have wanted, but at this second he never wanted anything more than _his _Tim.

Tim, the Boy Wonder. Tim, his _best friend_.

Tim smiled and it wasn't the girl Kon could see.

It was Tim. _Just _Tim.

"I'll be—"

And then the video was cut off by static and two haunting words, blinking on and off repeatedly: _Connection lost_.

"Tim? Tim!" said Kon, trying to bring the feed back online. But all he kept receiving was 'no signal'. Kon ran his hand through his hair, his mind whirling fast. "Shit. What do I _do_?"

He looked over the ledge again, where Tim was and then at the computer screen, where the information was stored and ready to be sent. He had to send the intel to Batman right away. Hundreds of lives counted on him. But… and at this, he looked over at the brothel again and felt his heart being drawn to it, the feeling stronger than ever.

Was he… really _willing_ to endanger hundreds of innocent civilians, all for the sake of _one_?

Kon stood over the ledge, thought of Tim and his answer became clear. As clear as breathing, as soaking up the sun, as being who he was.

He took a step off the edge and let himself fall.


End file.
